


Too Warm

by TripleX_Tyrant



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TripleX_Tyrant/pseuds/TripleX_Tyrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick barely remembers the night he held a knife to Morty's neck, but he remembers how he woke up the next morning. That day has long passed, but he still thinks of Morty's kindness. He has the opportunity to show his own when Morty falls asleep on a cold tram.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Taking a break from smut to write fluff, cause the Lord knows these two need more fluff. So here's my take on a common concept. Enjoy!

He had barged into Morty's bedroom that night sloshed out of his mind, flipping on the lights and stumbling to sit on Morty's bed with no regard to Morty's personal space or need for sleep. To call this awakening rude would be an understatement, but it wasn't as if Morty was new to Rick's alcoholic and intrusive tendencies. He sat up groggily and listened to his grandpa ramble some nonsense about how Morty was his little buddy and his helper. But Morty considered himself wise to Rick's game and wouldn't let this, what he believed to be manipulative flattery, sway him. He asked:

“Have you been drinking, Rick?”

It came out dry and exhausted, and for that Morty was thankful. But even when Morty thought he knew how to deal with Rick, Rick found a way to make sure he never got too comfortable. Suddenly, Rick caught Morty by the hair and had a knife shoved flat under his chin, the cold metal touching his soft neck. Now Rick was yelling something about simulations and asking Morty if he was one. Morty genuinely feared for his life, but his panicked and confused assurances that he was indeed real must have been satisfactory because Rick switched like a light back to his swaying, more pleasant mood before blacking out completely. He dropped the knife and fell face-first to Morty's floor.

It took a moment for Morty to regain himself, but after several deep breaths, his shakes subsided and he uncurled himself. He thought Rick looked incredibly uncomfortable, what with his feet still caught on the side of the bed while his chest and face were flat on the floor. But Rick was snoring away peacefully in a way that Morty felt was totally unfair. Morty's first thought was to get his mom and dad to escort Rick to his own room. It would really show Rick if they banned him from taking Morty on adventures for a while. As much as Morty thought Rick might deserve that however, Morty's good nature took over, and he begrudgingly slipped out of bed.

“You're really gonna sleep through this, Rick, are you kidding me?” he grumbled, taking hold of Rick's legs and lowering them straight out on the floor.

By the time Rick awoke the next morning, it was after 11am and Morty had long since gone to school, and he was surprised to find himself face up on Morty's floor. He had a blanket and pillow and no memory of getting in this position. He didn't remember when exactly he passed out, but he remembered everything before hand. Beating himself up for falling for that simulation-Morty as long as he had. He should have realized it the moment he thought they were actually bonding. Their relationship was way too unorthodox and messy for that. In fact, he also remembered that it was with intentions of working on their dynamic that he had gone to Morty's bedroom in the first place. Rick was going to give him the compliment he deserved, and also make sure that he would _never_ mistake a fake Morty for the real Morty again.

That was basically what he did.

But Rick didn't remember how he ended up on Morty's floor. He rubbed his aching head and sat up against the creaking of his own sore back. He looked around the dim room and rubbed the blanket between his fingers thoughtfully as he remembered what he could of last night. He remembered the knife, and rubbed the cover against his face as if to scrub the memory away.

“I hold a knife to his throat and the dummy tucks me in.”

After some consideration, Rick dumped the pillow and blanket on Morty's bed and left the room. On his way downstairs, he suckled what was left in his flask in a rush to diminish his headache. He slumped into the garage, dropping heavily into his chair before spotting the knife on the workbench.

Morty had rolled Rick onto his back last night, placed one of his pillows under his head, and covered him up with an extra blanket from his closet. Then he had taken the knife down to the garage because he didn't want to leave it within reach in case Rick woke up and wanted to use it.

Rick decided to think little about this whole thing as he dumped the knife in its drawer. Even though neither Rick nor Morty spoke about this incident, they both often thought about it (despite all of Rick's efforts not to). Morty wondered if Rick even cared about his kindness or if it was just something that he would always take for granted. Rick from time to time considered showing Morty a little of his own affections. Well, it was a nice idea, but he wasn't able to think about it much without his thoughts contorting into loud static while his gut twisting into bitter knots. Sickening displays of kindness and good intention were supposed to be Morty's gimmick. And he'd probably show them to anyone anyhow.

*~*~*~

Many many days and adventures later, Rick and Morty were wrapping up another day of off-planet shenanigans. They had spent a good half of the day on a small planet that housed a colossal casino tower because Rick had tracked a gambling-addict acquaintance that owed him money there. Morty had done little more than get dragged and shoved around all day, and he was thoroughly exhausted by the time he and Rick entered the shuttle from the casino's top floor. He had no idea what time it was on Earth, but even the bright lights didn't deter his desire for sleep.

This shuttle, which was decorated like a tattoo parlor what with its colorful buzzing lights and pictures of alien bodies that swirled in ways that were abstractly sexual and grotesque, carried patrons up and down the tower on a spiral rail. The cart that Rick and Morty were riding in was shared only with one other alien who was slumped in the far corner in mourning of its lost earnings. When they had entered one of these shuttles when they first arrived, Morty had been mystified and wary. Now he simply plopped down on the leather-like bench embedded into the wall and rested his head on the arm. He let his heavy eyelids close, and the buzzing of the lights and the vibrations of the shuttle quickly lulled him to sleep.

Rick chose to stand, and he watched as Morty's breathing deepened. In his sleep, Morty bundled his arms over his chest against the chill of the cart, his knees bending as he pulled his feet up. Morty himself remained unaware of his own mild discomfort, but he was gently awakened about five minutes later by a feeling of warmth coming over him. With some effort, he opened his eyes and saw that Rick was draping a cover over him. Their eyes locked, and Rick's widened ever so slightly before he quickly looked away and took the cover back.

The first thing Morty noticed was that it felt much colder now, and the second thing he noticed was that the cover was Rick's coat, which he was now sliding back on very mechanically, his back to Morty. Morty felt his cheeks tingle at the realization that Rick had been in the process of covering him up. It was hard to believe, and he wished that he'd been able to pretend to still be asleep so the situation could have played out.

“We're almost to the bottom,” Rick said, also mechanically. He walked to the door and put his hand on the bar there.

Morty sat up and rubbed his eyes, then stood and walked up behind Rick, still holding his arms crossed against the chill. It felt colder now after having the short taste of Rick's bodily warmth (and perhaps some other warmth). He watched Rick's back, thinking of how it looked very still. Distant even. Morty was nearly ready to believe he'd just woken up during a dream, and Rick really hadn't been draping his coat over him. But those eyes were too familiar. Even though Morty didn't know whether or not Rick remembered (and sadly Rick did not), on that one night that seemed so long ago now, Morty had held Rick's head up while he shoved his pillow underneath. When he sat Rick's head back down, Rick's eyes flickered open.

“W-warm, Morty,” Rick had slurred out when Morty fanned the blanket out over him.

“You don't want it?” Morty asked, grabbing the top of the cover.

Rick grabbed his hand to stop it, and they locked eyes. “Not the blanket, Morty. It's you. Y-you're too...”

Without finishing, Rick broke his eyes away. He released Morty's hand and held his forehead. Then he closed his eyes and his arm dropped, and he was out again.

The tram reached its stop, and Morty lurched forward into Rick. He quickly stepped back, but Rick simply waited for the door to open and stepped out. The two crossed the parking lot and climbed into the ship.

After taking off, Rick said, “Feel free to- t-to go back to sleep.”

Morty didn't need to be told. He already had the side of his head propped against the window. He shifted a little in his seat and peeked at Rick. Rick was looking forward, his default expression unreadable if not a little grumpy in appearance.

He almost didn't say anything, but in a small voice, Morty said, “It's a… a l-little cold.”

Rick could have turned up the heat. He could have even told Morty to deal with it. And for a moment he considered these options. Instead, he pulled his arms out of his coat sleeves. Morty sat up, too eager to play things nonchalantly. Rick saw this, huffed, then looked forward again before pulling his coat out from behind himself and tossing it to Morty.

“Th-thanks, Rick,” Morty said, unable to disguise his grin or the pink on his cheeks as he turned the coat over in his hands.

“Don't mention it,” Rick said, and Morty knew he meant it.

Morty slid his arms through the sleeves and pulled the collar up to his neck, then hugged the back to his torso. It was very warm with Rick's body heat, and perhaps some other warmth. He leaned against the window once more, and it wasn't long before he was asleep.

Flying smoothly, Rick let his eyes fall to Morty, looking so cozy nestled in his coat. Rick sucked his lips in between his teeth and bit down. He didn't like feeling this way about someone else. He was too old to be getting emotional over someone else. He was supposed to be hardened and cold. He liked it that way. But Morty was too warm. That's all there was to it. Morty was too warm, and this was all his fault.

 


End file.
